


The Meek of the Earth

by FireEye



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Animal Transformation, Gen, trope bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian Vael finds himself in unexpected kinship with one of the Maker's smaller creations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meek of the Earth

When the light faded, he had to wonder at how his armor no longer had the snug, comfortable, familiar fit.  Perched on the bevor, he ran his stubby fingers through his whiskers, at a complete loss.

A shadow fell over him, and he instinctively froze.  The hound, though certainly familiar, was also much, much bigger than he had been a moment ago.  His gaping maw was cavernous, framed with glistening ivory stalactites for teeth.

“Bad dog.”

Isabela grabbed the mabari by the scruff, pulling him away.  Her golden eyes were each as big as his head, growing larger as she grew closer.

He didn’t have time to make a heavily weighed decision on whether or not she was going to eat him.

He jumped.

Isabela’s hand closed around him in midair, but his fur made him too slick to hold.  He scrambled along her arm, and, losing his grip, landed in the smooth valley between her breasts.  She squeaked in surprise as, struggling to scramble out, he slipped between flesh and cloth.

“ _Really_ , Sebastian,” Isabela admonished, at once muffled and rumbling, “Why can’t you be this eager when you’re not four inches long and covered in fur?”

He landed on the cuff of her boot, and held on for dear life.  There was a hole in the corner, between the pavers, and if only he could get to it, he’d be free of these dangerous giants.  He dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding being stomped upon, and made a mad dash for safety.

Voices clambered overhead, all at once and indistinct.  A foot landed in front of the hole, too close to his face.  He scrambled to spin about, zigzagging across the floor in the other direction.  There was a tapestry on the far wall, and he clawed his way straight up between the wool and the stone.

There, he froze to catch his breath, hanging precariously in space, hoping he hadn’t been seen.

The tapestry drew back, and he fell flat into a waiting palm.  He scrambled against the soft fingers that closed around him, aiming his flight into a glass that smelled strongly of distilled lyrium.

He found that he couldn’t climb the glass, nor jump up the neck of the bottle.  Hawke turned the glass this way and that, studying his efforts with a contemplative frown.

“Well, that’s inconvenient.”

~*~

The mouse-that-had-been-Sebastian sat under a glass bowl, testing the limits of his captivity.  When Isabela leaned over him, he ran to the opposite side.  He poked his nose where the bowl met the table, then reached up to test the glass, then followed the curvature of the dome back towards her.

Hawke perched on a stool across the room, tome splayed open across her knees.

“You know, there’s an old story about a prince who was trapped in the body of a small animal,” she remarked between pages.  Fluttering her hand, recited, “All he needed was a kiss from a maiden as pure as virgin snow.”

“I fail to see how that helps us.” Isabela tapped the glass, Sebastian seemed to be pointedly ignored her.  “It’s been quite some time, do you think he might want some cheese?”

Hawke sighed, and resumed flipping pages a score at a time.

~*~

The cloud of magic dispersed, rolling off him.  Sebastian studied his hands, following down his arms, and along the rest of him.

“Oh, now, that’s much better,” Isabela critiqued.  Pointedly not smiling, no matter how his expression tried to twist away from him, Sebastian grabbed the tablecloth to cover his pride, deftly tucking the cloth about his waist as he stood.

“Hawke-...”

“Now, this wasn’t – was _not_ my fault!”  Hawke wagged a finger in his direction, halting his approach.  Sebastian diverted his attention from her to adjusted his makeshift skirts.  “I told you it was trapped.”

“Yes, indeed.”  There was a measure of patience tempering his voice, albeit it cracked at the edges, where a frustrated laugh threatened to bubble over.  “Thank you, for your warning.”  He cocked his head, staring down at her, disparate grin belying exasperation.  “But you didn’t say _how_ it was trapped.”


End file.
